


The Scent of Magic

by Enula



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Connections, Grief/Mourning, Journey, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon, the cloak comforts Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enula/pseuds/Enula
Summary: Tony loses everyone while he's on Titan. Doctor Strange's cloak is the one that chooses to help him get up and keep moving forward.Chapter 2 made for IronStrange week, day 3: The Cloak of Levitation (f. Tony's bots)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking a lot about what role the cloak could (or should have) played in the movie with Tony being left behind. There is more of just a hint of IronStrange in this.
> 
> I'm not sure if this will remain a one-shot? Or if I should continue it as Tony grows fond of the cloak in Strange's absence. And how they will work it out when Strange finally does come back.

**The Scent of Magic**

 

“Tony...there was no other way…”

 

It was happening too fast. Tony’s mind couldn’t keep up with what his eyes were seeing, and he was sure he’d be turned to dust next.

 

_Please just let it happen…._

 

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good,” Peter stumbled over to him, collapsing against Tony like he was feeling Death Herself grabbing onto his soul and ripping it from his bones.

 

Tony grasped onto him hard, trying to find words to help. But he couldn’t form words, or even sounds; there was a lump in his throat he was sure was choking him to the death he deserved. He didn’t even have the physical strength to hold Peter up when he became too weak to stand.

 

Tony wanted to tell him he was proud of him -- to keep fighting it off.

 

 _Fight, kid..._ **_fight!..._ **

 

“I’m sorry.” Peter looked into his eyes, ashamed that he couldn’t take the fear or pain (if it could even be called _pain --_ it was more like an emptiness, a hollowness, that left him thinking that death was for the best). He had to look away from his mentor and father figure as he felt his bones and skin disintegrate.

 

And just like that, Strange and Peter were gone. Tony rolled away, looking at the ashes in his hand, willing the universe to make him disappear next. All he wanted was peace. The universe will rebuild itself. But he didn’t want to be alive to see it. He was too tired.

 

He felt the void in his chest more than ever before and was sure he was next. He wanted to curse the world that it decided to take him last.

 

Then there was a heaviness he was not expecting; a sudden weight that grounded him and let him know he was still alive and going to stay that way. He opened his weary eyes to see red. Strange’s cloak wrapped itself around Tony in a protective embrace as if it knew his pain and was somehow feeling his loss as well.

 

Tony closed his eyes again and lowered his head, the cloak wrapping loosely around his face like it was giving him permission to cry. Or scream. With the cocooning came a very distinct smell. It smelled like...magic. Tony almost chuckled ironically.

 

_Because magic has a scent…_

 

Though, maybe it did. The cloak _was_ magic after all, and Strange was nothing but magic...or so Tony thought. There was an otherworldly regard about Strange that Tony wasn’t able to put his finger on, and now that he was gone, he felt greater sadness over the fact that he didn’t figure Strange out,  rather than his actual loss.

 

_Such a waste…_

 

And Peter….what was he going to tell his aunt? What was he going to tell Pepper? Were either of them even still alive? Or did they get gloriously chosen too? Tony’s scoff sounded more like a choked sob. He wondered if he was the only one out of everyone he knew that didn’t get the clean up special. He felt like the biggest scum left on earth and considered reopening the wound Thanos granted him with.

 

He smacked the cloak away from his face, his mind blacking as soon as he saw some of Peter’s ashes still on his hand. He pointed the sharp edge of his armor against his stomach, ready to dive in deep. But the cloak stopped him, surprisingly strong and determined.

 

Tony looked at it (in the _eyes?_ He must be losing it if he’s thinking he’s looking straight into the eyes of a piece of cloth), and set his face hard.

 

“Let me do this,” he mumbled between gritted teeth, his voice not even belonging to him.

 

The cloak waved from side to side, tightening itself around his hand when he tried again. They struggled until the cloak got irritated enough to hurriedly wrap around his center so it was impossible to stab himself without going through the cloak first.

 

“You think--,” _that’s going to stop me?_ He couldn’t finish his sentence out loud. He pointed the edge at his torso again, but stopped short of the cloak. He rationalized that it made zero sense to believe that he could _kill_ the cloak if he stabbed it, but...what if he did? What if a small piece of Strange lived inside of it? Tony couldn’t pretend to know what all magic entailed (especially Strange’s magic), so even the small possibility that he could kill the last remaining piece of someone that he knew…

 

He slumped his arm to his side, “You win…” They were words of defeat that made him cringe.

 

At once, the cloak unwrapped itself from his middle and flowed around his shoulders again. Like a strong will and belief, the cloak lifted Tony to his feet. He was surprised his legs could support him. Then like an umbrella caught in a heavy storm, the cloak pulled him away from the graveyard spot and over toward the blue robot lady.

 

“I know someone like you,” he said, trying not to think of it in past tense though he knew Vision was gone now that Thanos was able to get all the stones.

 

“We need to find parts to fix this ship,” she said, already looking through the pile of rubble and ship parts. Tony assumed that the ship she was looking at fixing was Star Lord’s. It got pretty damaged in the battle, but it was still in better shape than the Donut ship.

 

Tony stood still as he watched her. Did she really believe it was worth the effort? He didn’t have time to dwell on the existential question before he was slapped hard on his face, an intense stinging following the shock.

 

The cloak was again _looking_ at him. It _looked_ stern.

 

_I really must be losing it…_

 

_“I save your life and then you just stand there like a simpleton!”_

 

Tony cocked his head to the side, swearing he heard Strange’s voice from the cloak. He reached out and rubbed the fabric between his fingers gently, “Strange? Did you wizard yourself into your Superman cape?”

 

The cloak smacked his hand away and indicated to the ground. Tony caught Nebula’s eye, but she quickly looked away, pretending like she didn’t just catch him talking to...himself?

 

“Are you going to help or not?” She sounded annoyed in a defeated kind of way, “Thanos was last on Earth so we might as well try to go there and see if we can find out any more information. That’s where you’re from, right? Maybe some of your people are still alive.”

 

_My people…_

 

The cloak pulled Tony forward again, this time leaning him to the ground in front of a ship part.

 

_“Pull yourself together, Tony.”_

 

With war worn hands, Tony picked up a metal piece, almost surprised at how icely cold it was. The cloak patted him on the head.

 

_“Good boy.”_

 

Tony still didn’t have time to grieve, and he knew that was coming, and it hurt just thinking about the moment he was going to lose it. It was inevitable. His worst fear had come to pass and he couldn’t even process it properly. Admitting how messed up his mind was to Strange when they were unknowingly heading toward Titan was not even the tip of the proverbial iceberg. And why did he even tell Strange all that in the first place? In front of the kid no less.

 

But maybe, whatever reason that was, it was a good thing he did. This cloak of his seemed to have an understanding that Tony needed to be picked up and moved to remind him that he was worth it and alive for a reason.

 

Tony thought about Strange’s last words.

 

“...no other way…”

 

In his jumbled mind, Tony somehow pieced together that with the one time Strange saw them win in all the fourteen million six-hundred and four times they did not...it was because of him.

 

Tony couldn’t help but let out a breath that may have been a chuckle.

 

“Strange, you son of a bitch….you could have given me a little warning.”

 

He would deal with him later. He was _sure_ of it. If Strange saw the future, one where Tony was able to save everyone after the fact somehow, then he had to stop letting his broken soul lead his decisions and come up with a plan on how to get Peter, and Strange, and everyone else that perished back to where they belonged.

 

“Just in spite of your smug face if nothing else…” Tony murmured, thinking of the wink and smirk Strange gave him when they first battled together on Earth.

 

The cloak flew behind him, like it was weightless, like it was proud it was able to convince Tony to stand up and keep walking forward, living and being the hero the universe needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony made it back to Earth and trying to figure out a way to make the world right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to continue this! Like so many of you asked, and I got such positive feedback that I could not not continue. PLUS it's IronStrange week and the prompt for day 3 was The Cloak or Tony's bots, and this story itself already fell in line with that, so adding the second chapter for today seemed right.

**II.**

 

It had been a few months since the disappearance of half the universe. Three months, two weeks, and two days. Tony didn’t bother counting it to the hour. In a way, he almost lost all sense of time. The world was reset and the people that were left either had a strong desire to build everything up fast and better than they were before...or--they didn’t have a desire at all. Many people who were left behind lost multiple family members and friends, and were killing themselves.

 

Tony made a public announcement that the Avengers were going to do everything in their power to restore things to their natural order. But if the people didn’t lose faith in Avengers after the incident in Siberia, they sure did after the Avengers split up during the Accords fiasco.

 

He was trying to speak empty words of hope to already hopeless people. And so the world, or Earth, at least, continued to lose population.

 

And there were times when Tony thought about giving up. Many times, actually. But he kept thinking about Peter’s Aunt May and how she begged him to bring Peter home. If nothing else, that was his own true motivator.

 

That...and that ever stubborn (yet quite stylish) Cloak of Levitation. It was too intuitive for a cape such as itself; it knew when Tony had just about enough and it would put him back in his place. It became so _human_ to Tony that he considered building a bot for it to live on and control. Tony wondered if he could connect anything through the magic of the cape so it could become more of a living entity, but…

 

But then it would slide itself over his shoulders and he found he preferred it there. He wasn’t sure if it was just him or not, but the cloak never lost the scent it first had since he _inherited_ it on Titan. (Maybe “inherited” wasn’t the right word. _Borrowed. Against his will.)_

 

Tony couldn’t wait to give the damn thing back to Strange (though he considered asking for weekend visitation, at the very least). It was surprisingly helpful in the lab; if Tony asked it to grab him something, it got it right eight out of ten times. He caught it having an _argument_ with some of his bots, and Tony had to remind his AIs and the cloak that there was no reason to be jealous of the other, and they both shared an equal space in his cold damaged heart.

 

Then one day, a Christine Palmer came knocking on his door. At first, seeing only a woman on the other side of the door, Tony thought it may have been Pepper. He was still unsure of whether or not Pepper was one of the ones to bite the dust, or if she simply left because she warned him.

 

She warned him over and over that she would…

 

But Tony couldn’t accept either case, because when he first returned to his home, he found an unopened pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom sink. So that was just another unknown in his life...was she or wasn’t she?

 

He was so tired of thinking about it.

 

Christine reminded him of Pepper nonetheless, for she had the same look in her eyes--drained yet concerned. She didn’t think Stephen made it, she was sure she would have heard from him had he, but she needed to find out for sure.

 

“Relation?” Tony asked, eyeing the cloak wearily as it floated gently over to her.

 

She tried to smile through her tears, “Complicated.”

 

So he invited her in for drinks and they spent the whole night talking about the infamous Doctor Stephen Strange, a former neurosurgeon turned Sorcerer Supreme. She filled in every single gap of his life that Tony was interested in knowing. And Tony’s suspicions that some part of Strange was living inside the cloak grew when it seemed insulted by some of the ways Christine described him at times.  

 

“So…” Tony started, looking down at the empty glass in his hand, “Any plans for when I bring him back?”

 

She chuckled softly, “I’m really glad you sound so sure that you can, Tony,” (she got into the habit of calling him by his first name as the night wore on). “But him and I...we work better as friends. If that’s what you’re asking? It seemed like that’s what you were asking.”

 

Tony shrugged and tried to act nonchalant. A part of him was hoping she was waiting for Strange...so he could have something good and positive to come home to. But another part of Tony wanted that thing to be him (God, he hated himself).

 

“I just worry about him. I’m sure he’s changed a lot since...since he became...magic,” it seemed she still had a hard time wrapping her mind around his new fantastical world, and she tried not to look at the cloak in fear it would be insulted again.

 

“Well...let me tell you, as someone who went into space to save his ass, only to get saved by him _twice..._ there is something... _different_ about him. Compared only to the stories you told me, of course.” Tony stood up and walked over to the bar, “One more drink?”

 

“No, thank you,” she stood as well, and he could tell she was getting ready to take her leave, “I do appreciate you listening to me all night. It was good to let go of some of that past I shared with him...so you can understand him better for the future.” Christine touched Tony’s arm comfortingly and flashed an understanding smile.

 

Tony’s mouth dropped open at her statement, but he was having a hard time finding a response. The cloak pushed his jaw up to stop him from gawking.

 

After Christine left, Tony told his bots to clean up the living area and kitchen. The cloak tried to cut in and help out, but Tony grabbed it by its collar and dragged it along to his lab, “You’re the guest, you don’t have to clean.”

 

Once down in the lab, the cloak rested over the shoulders of Tony’s latest IronMan suit. Tony had to admit, the two sure looked good together.

 

“I’m going to ask you a few things that I...don’t think I was ready to ask before, but now I am. That cool?” Tony leaned against his workbench, crossing his arms and watching the cloak move the Iron helmet up and down to nod. Tony nodded as well, wiping his mouth as though he wanted to wash the words out of him. He stared at the cloak. Then finally asked, “Is some part of Strange... _threaded_ in you?”

 

It raised the arms to imitate a shrug.

 

“You don’t kn-- _how can you not know?!”_ Tony almost lost his chill, but he stopped himself when it put the hands on the hips. “F-fine, sorry I just…” he sighed heavily, “Can you do magic? I mean...besides flying around. Do you do spells?”

 

It drooped helplessly around the armor, giving Tony his answer.

 

“Well can you at the very least tell me what I _could_ or _should_ be doing?” His voice was tense. This conversation was not going as he planned.But then the cloak was levitating into the air along with the suit. It pressed a button against the wall and the ceiling hatch opened up to allow it to escape the compounds.

 

“Hey! That’s my new suit!” He groaned when he realized that cloak had no intention of coming back in. He called one of his other suits to take hold of him, then flew out to follow the cloak to wherever it was leading him.

 

Turned out that it was the Sanctum Sanctorum, the very place Tony first met Stephen (if he didn’t include outside the portal at the park). And it was at this very spot where all the destruction first started. He _told_ him to shove that stone down the garbage disposal…

 

The cloak opened the front door to 177A Bleeker Street in Greenwich Village and disappeared inside. Tony retracted his suit into its case on his arm and walked up the steps but stopped right outside the door. Was it weird, him being here? Was there some sort of enchantment that was put over the townhouse to keep unwanted visitors out? He supposed that, even if there was, the cloak letting him in meant that he was invited.

 

He took a cautious step inside, “Hello? Anybody home?” His voice echoed in a very isolated way. It had clearly not been lived in since…

 

He shut the door behind him. The cloak left his IronMan suit by the stairs and fluttered up to the second floor, spinning around to see if Tony was following. Tony could see that the cloak didn’t have the patience for him to take a look around, so he went after the cloak until they made it to a library that seemed as ancient as the magic Strange used.

 

The cloak fluttered up and down the isles, throwing book after book down on the table that still looked like it was in use. There were two candlesticks, a worn journal, and an empty plate with only crumbs left behind. Tony slumped down in the chair, looking at all the items laid before him, picturing Stephen sitting right where he was.

 

“So this is where you did your homework, huh?” Tony mumbled, placing his palm flat on the journal, but not opening it. He considered looking through it later though. Right before he was ready to bring Stephen back, so all his dirty secrets he kept in his journal would be fresh in his mind.

 

“So what’s all this?” Tony asked once the cloak put the twelfth and final book on the table. Tony grabbed the one closest to him and flipped it open. " _Key of Solomon…”_ Tony skimmed through some lines and it didn’t take him long to realize that it was a magical book dealing with the raising of spirits.

 

He looked over to the cloak, “You want me to study magic?”

 

The cloak did an excited backflip, then pushed a few more of the books closer to Tony. He chuckled and held up his hands, “I am a _scientist_ who dedicated my life to technology. I am _not_ Sirius Black.” But the cloak didn’t seem to like or care about any of that, as it continued to push the books closer and closer, trying to get its point across.

 

“These books will not give me a mystical spiritual awakening.”

 

Why must facial haired handsome men be the bane of the cloak’s existence? It went through the same kind of doubt with Stephen before, and now it was starting from scratch again.

 

Tony continued to sit and stare at all the books surrounding him. He was running out of options. He didn’t know if he was waiting for a sign, or for the universe to magically right itself, but he couldn’t just do nothing anymore.

 

“And you think this will fix everything?”

 

The cloak wasn’t sure one way or the other, but it was out of options as well. If anyone could do this in a short amount of time, it was Tony Stark.


End file.
